


Healing Hearts

by Squishy (BurbleJerry)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Scion of Legend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22618225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurbleJerry/pseuds/Squishy
Summary: Brady tends to Owain's wounds after a battle, and they both worry about each other.
Relationships: Brady/Eudes | Owain
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	Healing Hearts

Fresh from another victorious battle, the Shepherds’ camp bustled with activity. Voices were raised in laughter and cheer; people wandered and celebrated. Ducking and weaving between the reveling soldiers, Brady struggled under Owain’s arm and with his own fatigue; he panted and stumbled on the uneven ground. Despite being half-carried, Owain did his best to support Brady as they trekked along.

“Sir Brady,” Owain began, glancing at his boyfriend with obvious worry, “my legs are fine--”

“The rest of you ain’t!” Brady growled, voice rough from how he shouted and sobbed amid the battle. He promptly stumbled over a small rock, but Owain managed to keep them both upright and moving. Owain had seen that Brady spent most of his energy healing people during the fight. He admired how hard Brady worked, but he knew how frail the priest was. Brady glanced over, noticed Owain’s obvious expression of concern, and grumbled, with a tired sniffle, “Just keep movin.”

“But you don’t need to help me walk,” Owain said again, exasperated, before they finally reached one of the healer’s tents. Before he could say more, Brady ducked inside; Owain reluctantly followed, then kept quiet as they entered the well-worn tent. They made their way between the pallets and cots, where a handful of people yet slept away their injuries: only some of the Shepherds had even been hurt enough after the battle to warrant staying in the tent. In the dim light, Owain couldn’t tell how injured they were compared to himself: he still had some cuts and scrapes everywhere, and a nasty cut upon his arm. Brady had insisted on dragging him here despite his assurances. As Brady led them to an isolated cot in the corner, he tried to speak again. “I’m not that hurt, Brady.”

Instead of answering, Brady quickly turned away to root through the medical supplies. However, Owain caught sight of a familiar glitteriness around Brady’s beautiful eyes. Once Brady found a suitable staff, he faced Owain only to meet his boyfriend’s worried puppy-dog eyes; his scowl melted into more of a stubborn pout. “Don’t gimme that look, I... I just got allergies from all the dust, alright?!”

Clenching his jaw, Owain locked his gaze with Brady’s and declared, “Brady, my mortal frame has sustained more dire injuries then this! I--ack!” he abruptly flinched back as the staff waved over him and almost collided with his face.

“Sorry,” Brady mumbled. With one trembling hand, he guided the staff’s magic over Owain, a gentle rain of healing light; with the other hand, he ineffectively wiped at his tear-streaked face. Thus distracted, he didn’t notice Owain’s arm move until his staff had abruptly stopped moving; he startled, then scowled when he saw Owain’s sword-calloused hand holding the staff motionless.

“Hey, don’t wear yourself out, ok?” Owain smiled softly at Brady as he set the staff down. The residual light from its healing magic lit up their dim corner of the tent like a gentle aurora of moonlight. “Even great healers of tender heart need to rest their weary souls, and you have worked as hard as any warrior today.”

Brady’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. “Fine. But lemme at least wrap up your arm before I take a breather.” He dug around in the supplies and pulled forth bandages and medicine. “At least take a rest too, alright?” he asked, and Owain sat upon the pallet obediently. Brady joined him with the usual creak of his joints. “Sorry ‘bout your shirt,” he added as he eyed the tear.

“Fear not, for it can be mended!” Owain assured him with a smile. “As can I, thanks to your expert care.”

“Yeah, I know, now off with the jacket,” Brady grumbled. His face flushed even pinker as Owain tossed the yellow tunic aside. Despite the distraction of muscle, he carefully took Owain’s hurt arm and examined the wound. It was the worst of Owain’s wounds, a long cut right beneath the Brand.

“See? They missed my exalted mark! Clearly, my very being has been protected from any serious harm.”

Brady smiled a little, despite his obviously upset behavior. “Just don’t twitch your arm,” was all he said. Owain managed to sit still, and Brady went to work. First, he made sure the cut was clean, though his brows furrowed at Owain’s stifled grunt. Brady leaned in and examined the wound critically, then he sighed in relief. “Not as bad as it looks,” he muttered. After carefully applying the medicine, Brady was mindful enough to bandage the wound so that it didn’t block the Brand. It was a simple thing to keep uncovered, he knew, but it was important to Owain; thus, it was important to him, too.

As soon as Brady had finished, Owain lifted his bandaged arm and regarded it with a proud grin. “Already the ache has eased! My dearest mender of body and soul, you have my eternal gratitude.”

Brady’s cheeks turned pink all over again, and he couldn’t quite suppress his smile. “You say that every time,” he mumbled as he put the medicine away. As soon as he’d set the box down, however, his smile wavered and he looked away again with a fresh sniffle.

Owain frowned and immediately reached out to the priest. “Brady, what--” he stopped with a wince and reluctantly lowered his hurt arm. “I’m ok, my gentle healer of heart. This mere cut is a small price to pay for defending our future-past.” He leaned in towards Brady, concern softening his expression. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“You coulda been seriously hurt,” Brady growled. Owain flinched, and Brady looked away, his face all scrunched up and wet with tears. “You’re always the one protecting me-- stop movin’ that arm already,” he snapped, when Owain would have tried to comfort him again. With a grumbly sniffle, Brady scooted next to Owain instead, and rested his cheek against Owain’s fluffy hair. “Maybe… I just wanna protect you, sometime.”

“Oh, Brady,” Owain murmured before pulling him close. Luckily, his sword hand wasn’t injured, so he reached out to hold Brady’s hand and lean into him, as they’d done so many times before. Owain knew he wasn’t the best at reading social cues, but he knew Brady well enough by now to read his. “Brady, you have saved me countless times. Your heart is the hearthfire of renewal that warms my spirit. Your guiding light has kept my body and soul going in the face of oblivion. Your--” he grunted as Brady’s lanky arms were abruptly thrown around his shoulders. He felt wetness in his hair, running in small rivulets down his scalp with Brady’s every muffled sniffle.

“Shuddup already,” Brady’s muffled, snuffly voice was barely audible, “ya big dumb dork.”

Owain smiled to himself. He whispered, as if the atmosphere in their little corner of the world was fragile, “I love you, too.” He hooked his chin atop Brady’s bony shoulder, his uninjured arm curling around the sentimental priest. Brady’s snuffles gradually died down as Owain rubbed gentle circles against his back.

Eventually, Brady sighed. “I better go help the others out. Ma will wonder where I’ve been.”

Owain shook his head and leaned away, just enough to look Brady in the eyes. “Your wellspring of healing touch has run dry. You must recover your strength, for without you, we would be lost.” As Brady glanced towards the entrance to the tent, hesitating, Owain added, “Please, Brady? If you’re going to make me rest, then you definitely need a break, too.”

“There you go, talking normally again,” Brady muttered. He shook his head and sighed, and finally admitted, “Yeah, alright. But, uh, Owain?”

Owain looked up at Brady, noting with affection the eyes still red-rimmed and cheeks adorably pink. “Yes, my dearest mender? What would you ask of your humble partner?”

“It alright if I, uh… stay and rest a bit with ya?” Brady looked away as he asked; his thin fingers fidgeted together before he stilled them.

“Of course! I would feel safer with none save you, my partner in all things just and good.” Owain brightened at the soft, happy little smile that Brady gave him. He leaned in for a quick peck before nuzzling into Brady’s neck with a happy sigh. He felt Brady settle against him, a weight that Owain barely noticed, and yet one that he would always take comfort in. Owain closed his eyes, and for just this once, enjoyed a quiet moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a kudos and/or comment if you enjoyed! If you like my work, then please consider checking out my personal/writing https://twitter.com/Squishy_Jerry !


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